SPLASH OUT
by Polypod
Summary: An AU fic in which 17-year-old Stan Marsh discovers an interest in a certain redhead at a Swimming Tournament held in Denver. The only problem is, they're not competing for the same school. Style fic - also includes Bunny and Creek if you squint. Will be rated M for later chapters. (boy x boy) Warnings include: Swearing, sexual themes later on and Cartman being an ass 24/7.
1. Chapter 1

The sudden sensation of the front wheel clipping a pothole in the road jolted him awake.

At the abrupt wakeup call, seventeen-year-old Stan Marsh mumbled and ground the sleep out of his eyes with his knuckles in order to survey his surroundings. By the looks of things, they were still travelling to Denver and had hit a slight flow of traffic into the city. With a weary yawn, Stan adjusted his slouched posture, accidentally elbowing the sleeping boy next to him slightly, and regarded the pamphlet that was still lightly clasped in his left hand.

Denver had been recently selected to host the state championships for swimming and by some form of miracle, South Park's high school had somehow muscled their way through the preliminaries to take one of the final ten spots in the tournament. Their guaranteed spot meant that Stan and three other students from his grade would be taking a two hour trip to the state capital in order to represent his high school and more importantly, his hometown.

Admittedly, the swimming club hadn't been his _initial_ choice for extracurricular activities at the start of his high school life but there was something about the amount of skill and practice it took to tame the water that eventually drew him to the sport. Sure, football had presented him with a more physical challenge and served as the most logical choice for a boy his age but honestly, he just couldn't get himself to enjoy it as much as he used to as a child. In fact, he only agreed to play it in his first year of high school at the 'request' of his father who eventually got himself banned from attending any of his son's games through constant drunken brawling. But Stan wasn't complaining; he took his father's ban as the perfect opportunity to hang up his helmet at the end of the season and chose to pursue a different sport for the rest of his high school career.

The fact that alcohol consumption was banned at any of their practices was an added bonus. It meant that his father's antics couldn't distract him from participating like it had done in baseball, basketball or football – that is, if his father even bothered to show up, anymore.

It was no secret that his father was disappointed in his choice of extracurricular activities and even some of his old football teammates called him an outright pussy when they discovered he had decided to sign up for swimming practice. But it's not like any of their opinions mattered all that much in the long run. He had been a part of the team for three years now and if anything, Stan was just glad to be doing something he personally enjoyed and still managed to keep up with his physical appearance by being constantly on the go.

Plus, there were fewer chances of breaking your arms, snapping your tendons, suffering severe internal bleeding, getting your teeth smashed out or inflicting other athletes with a serious case of head trauma when it came to swimming. And that's just how he liked it.

Glancing around the bus, Stan took note of each of the five other teenagers accompanying him on what felt like the longest bus ride to Denver ever. At the front, Clyde was busy sitting with a large set of headphones on and a magazine on his lap, effectively shutting out the world around him. He would bob his head a little every so often to the beat of his music but never once let his eyes stray from the material in his hands. Next to the brunette was Tweek who had been silently quivering from stress since the moment he sat down. The poor guy hadn't been a part of the swimming team for as long as Stan and from what he remembered, Tweek only agreed to join the club because the fidgety blonde found swimming to be somewhat therapeutic – so long as the water wasn't thrashed around when he was in the pool and he wasn't held down underwater by any older students.

Kevin Stoley was travelling with them, serving as the team's probable stand-in due to Tweek's periodic spasms brought on by his intense anxiety. It was a decision made mainly by their coach but none of the boys appeared to mind. Hell, even Tweek seemed to be comforted by the idea of having Kevin along for the ride. And sure, Stan knew that Stoley could be a huge freaking nerd when he was engaged in conversation but the boy could swim just as well as the rest of them so he deserved at least _some_ kind of credit.

Stan glanced to his right to regard the blonde snoring somewhat loudly with the hood of his red and white jacket pulled over his eyes, likely to keep the sun from disturbing his slumber. Kenny had been on the swimming team the longest out of the six of them on the bus and was practically the reason Stan had joined before the end of their freshman year. After hearing that the former quarterback had hung up his boots for the last time, Kenny gleefully jumped at the chance to get the teen involved with the swimming club. He had introduced him to the former coach who immediately took a liking to Stan and since then, he never looked back. To his credit, Kenny was probably the best swimmer on their team by far and Stan was just glad to be sharing the experience with someone as close to him as the blonde.

And then there was Eric Cartman.

Unlike Kevin, Stan had absolutely no idea why the tubby brunette felt the need to tag along to every single one of their competitions. He definitely wasn't a swimmer and in spite of the team's protests, their newly appointed coach had occasionally offered the flabby teen a chance to become a part of the club in the past two years. Fortunately for the group, their coach's attempts were often shot down by loud-mouthed excuses or fictitious health issues that prevented the teenager from taking part in any athletic-based activities at school.

Though Stan was pretty sure that 'Lazy fat-ass syndrome' wasn't a medically recognised illness.

The bus finally slowed to a stop outside a rather extravagant looking building and the six South Park teenagers grabbed their respective gym bags before following their coach off the bus and into the hotel that had been booked specifically for the next two weeks in order for Denver to host the championships.

"Okay children, you wait here while I go get our asses registered for the upcoming events!" Chef ordered, heading towards the registration desk that had been set up in the foyer.

Due to the school's dwindling budget from a recent spate of 'sexual harassment' cases, several of the academic staff had to pitch in and accept different roles within the school board and oddly enough, Chef had somehow landed himself an extra job as Swimming Coach in their sophomore year - not that Stan minded, of course. The wise cafeteria worker had always been a great source of inspiration for the majority of the teenagers in South Park; it never seemed to matter what problems or troubles they faced in life, Chef always knew exactly what to say in order to put their issues into perspective and aided the students in growing up into (somewhat) reputable young adults. To top it off, he couldn't have been such a bad coach if he managed to get them this far in only two years of officially coaching.

"Well, this is it, guys." Stan mused aloud "We've finally made it to the State finals. Now we just have to keep our momentum flowing and we might actually be able to beat Denver."

Kenny gave his friend a crooked grin from underneath the shadows of his hood "Dude, we kicked ass _all_ over the place during preliminaries, Team Denver stands no chance against us!"

Tweek made a sharp yelp as if to agree with their teammate "Y-Yeah man, w-we gotta be the last team standing in this thing or else my parents might sell me into slavery…!"

"Tweek, I'm sure your dad's just exaggerating when he says that kinda stuff." Kevin reasoned as he adjusted the hefty gym bag slung over his right shoulder.

Stan stuffed his hands into his tracksuit jersey's pockets, taking in the faces and vivid tracksuit colours of athletes from the other qualifying schools that surrounded him. Students from Boulder, Fairplay and Bailey all currently chattered excitedly amongst themselves and their coaches as the hotel staff bustled around the crowds to make sure everyone was situated and on schedule. The teams from Conifer and Greeley were the next to arrive followed shortly by the teams from Fort Collins, Middle Park and Longmont. But oddly enough, the home team from Denver appeared to still be absent.

"Man, it's getting crowded in here!" Clyde commented as Tweek stepped closer to his side.

"Yep, it's turning out to be a real sausage fest in here, for sure." Cartman crudely retorted, sniffing a little "Too bad we couldn't get a few chicks to show up here beforehand."

"Shut up, Cartman." Stan sighed in an exasperated manner "We have to tell you every time we come to these things that it's an _all-boys_ tournament. The girls attend their own events."

"Yeah, that way creeps like you can't spy on them in the locker room." Kenny joked.

"Aye! We all know you'd be the first one runnin' into that locker room, you poor piece of crap!" Cartman childishly retorted, crossing his thick arms over his broad chest.

"Cartman, why the hell do you even come to these events?" Stan asked, genuinely curious.

Clyde chose that moment to also chime in to back his teammate up "Yeah, you don't do anything when you're here except trash talk other teams and try to sell some of the athletes a 'super juice' or something to get us into trouble."

"That was only one time, Clyde! And I told you guys I'm here for moral support! You need me to get you guys to the top!" Cartman fired back, pointing an accusing finger at them.

"Actually that happened twice." Kenny reminded him "And there was also that one time you attempted to-"

"Kinney, I swear to God Imma kick you squa' in the nuts if you say another word. Seriously." Cartman protested, quickly cutting the blonde's speech short.

"Don't look now but our rivals for the championship have finally decided to show up."

Kevin's voice had blown through the heated discussion about Cartman's bullshit intentions and with the rest of his team, Stan turned to look at the entrance of the hotel. Sure enough, a trio of athletes clad in purple and gold tracksuits made their way into the foyer with an older woman, who Stan figured must have been their coach, in tow. They didn't look like too much of a threat this year; their tallest member had an expression of indifference plastered on his stoic face and his charcoal-coloured bangs rested just above cold navy-blue eyes. Next to their taller member, stood their smallest member with a hairstyle that consisted of short sides and a longer tuft of blonde hair on the top of his head. He seemed to be their team's version of Tweek as he looked about nervously and frequently wrung his hands together as his cobalt eyes darted around, taking in the atmosphere of the crowded foyer. Their third member was just a few inches shorter than their tallest and judging by the name 'Token' embroidered in gold stitching on his expensive-looking gym bag, this guy was probably richer than all the South Park team combined.

Yeah, these three kids standing by the entrance had no chance against them this year.

Or that's what Stan initially thought until another team member fumbled towards them, seemingly apologizing for getting held up outside. Having caught sight of the fourth member as they were being chastised by the stout woman, Stan felt as though his heart had skipped a beat. Their fourth swimmer was fairly tall and rather slender with a mop of curly auburn hair nestled atop his head. From a distance, Stan could see the boy had olive-green eyes and a fairly prominent nose compared to the rest of his team. In fact, he looked somewhat similar to the woman who was scolding him for taking too long to get off their bus.

"Sweet, they've got a skinny ginger on their team." Cartman smirked as he rubbed his gloved hands together "These guys have no chance. Everyone knows gingers can't swim."

"Well, they have to be at least a bit decent to make it this far." Clyde apathetically reasoned.

The woman next to Stan's red-haired fixation jostled her way over to the desk that Chef had walked to minutes before, leaving the four boys to take in their surroundings and chat amongst each other. Then, by some miracle, Stan managed to make eye contact with the redhead, causing himself to inhale sharply. Emerald eyes stared into his sapphire ones from across the room and for a moment, the teen could have sworn that time slowed to a halt.

Stan had already come to terms with his bi-curious nature after his most recent breakup with one of the cheerleaders six months ago. Thankfully, it hadn't been as messy as some of his previous hang-ups and both parties had left the relationship with mutual feelings towards the conclusion of their three-month courtship. Since then, Stan had mainly focused on improving his academic grades to a steady flow of B's and the occasional A- or spending his free time between his friends and practice sessions at the community pool. But now, looking at the curly-haired male across the sea of colourful vestments, Stan had felt his curiosity beginning to ebb away at his conscious with a new fervour that couldn't be ignored.

"Gather 'round, children!"

Stan was shaken from his dream-like stasis and quickly followed the other boys to congregate in front of Chef who was grinning at them, full of pride "South Park has been officially welcomed into the state finals, So, I want you to give it your all this season, children! We have an official induction later this morning and the representatives have informed me that we can use Denver's pool for our practice drills. So get your asses up to your rooms and be back down here for the 10:30 induction. After that, we're heading out for our first practice!"

The six boys all collectively groaned before moving to retrieve their card keys from Chef who informed them they would be staying on the fourth floor of the building for the next few weeks in twin rooms, meaning they would ultimately have to share whether they agreed on the circumstances or not. Feeling someone warmly clap a hand over his shoulder, Stan observed Kenny from the corner of his eye, catching another glimpse of his lopsided smile. No words had to be exchanged; he already knew that the blonde was offering to partner up with him for a room and Stan had no reason to deny him. However, this mutual decision between the pair didn't please a certain someone.

"Aye! Kinney, you said you were gonna share a room with me this time!" Cartman angrily shouted, pointing a stubby finger at the blonde.

"Sorry dude, I'm sharing with Stan so we can go over practice routines." Kenny shrugged.

"Fine! I'll just share a room with Tweek and we'll have a better time than you two fags will!"

Tweek gave a terrified yelp as he gripped his blonde locks tightly between unsteady fingers "Augh! O-oh Jesus…! D-don't get me involved in this, man…!"

Stan tuned out the bickering between Cartman and the rest of his teammates about who was sleeping where while they walked towards the hotel's elevator after Chef. Before stepping in, Stan glanced back into the foyer looking for a certain redhead that had unexpectedly gained his interest. Upon locating him, Stan caught the male staring at him until the redhead quickly broke eye contact to inaudibly converse with their shortest team member. In that brief instant, a warm, vaguely familiar sensation began to pool within Stan's gut.

 _Dude._


	2. Chapter 2

After sitting through the tedious talk about the tournament schedule and essential announcements at the induction, Chef had bundled his little star athletes onto the bus and within fifteen minutes, the boys had arrived at the pool Denver's High School used for practice. While their coach was currently absent due to encountering a rather bewitching lady at the front desk, Kenny had taken the lead for the training session and was writing down the required notes on the clipboard Chef often carried with him during club meetings.

Stan managed to slap his hands against the ceramic tiling of the pool edge, signalling the end of his latest sprint across the pool and quickly tore off his goggles to look up at Clyde.

"What's my time?"

The brunette grinned as he clicked the stopwatch "You're up by 3.25 seconds, Marsh."

Stan whooped excitedly and punched the water as Kenny nodded in approval, noting Stan's new time down next to his name on Chef's clipboard of team records. Feeling pumped about his improvement, Stan hauled his weight out of the water so that he could peer over Kenny's shoulder to catch a glimpse of their current agility standings. As expected, Kenny was still the fastest swimmer due to being one of their slimmer athletes and Stan had managed to beat both his old time and Kevin's by only a few seconds to spare. Clyde was currently in fourth place having bettered his current time by 5.28 seconds and by the looks of things; Tweek was still dead last having added an extra 3.05 to his record.

"Okay. Kevin, Tweek - you guys are running the same practice so we're gonna treat this as a race." Kenny announced, lazily flipping through several sheets on his clipboard "The last to finish will be declared a total Melvin and will be ripped on for the remainder of practice."

"Guh! T-that's too much pressure…!" Tweek yelped as he clutched at his chest, despite realizing his misbuttoned shirt was momentarily absent "I don't wanna be called a Melvin…!"

"Then you better be ready to kick Stoley's ass, Tweek!" Cartman jeered from the spectator benches seconds before stuffing his face with a fistful of tortilla chips.

"But what if I dive down too far, crack my head on the bottom and drown?" Tweek squealed.

"Dammit, Tweek just get into the starting position!"

The blonde gave another petrified yip as he did as he was told. After a few tense seconds passed, Kenny blew the whistle hanging around his neck sharply, causing both Kevin and Tweek to spring forward from the edge of the pool into a front-facing dive.

"Oh, Jesus!"

Stan felt himself wince as Kevin managed to propel himself effortlessly –and painlessly– into the water while Tweek somewhat belly-flopped in after him. He could hear Kenny slapping himself in the forehead with the clipboard over the sound of Cartman's obnoxious laughter while Clyde merely shook his head as Tweek resurfaced with a panicked cry. Kevin had already circled back, clearly concerned about Tweek's mishap but the closer Kevin tried to get to the blonde, the further Tweek seemed to push himself against the side of the pool.

"Wah! Y-you're thrashing the water too much, man…!" Tweek screeched, shielding his eyes from the splashing water with his palms facing outward as his teammate approached.

"Tweek, how the hell do you manage to participate against other schools if _Kevin's_ swimming is enough to set you off?" Kenny asked slicking his damp, unruly locks back.

"I'm fine! I-I just freaked out when I heard the whistle…!" Tweek answered, looking around anxiously "You never said anything about whistleblowing! I thought we were under attack…!"

Stan had to admit, he did feel bad for Tweek. The kid was a decent swimmer when he wanted to be but recently he seemed to be extremely distracted and even more irritable than before. The former quarterback had started to think that maybe the realization of being in the state finals had hit Tweek a little later than it had the other athletes and the delayed shock only managed to intensify the bout of nerves he was experiencing. In fact, Stan was willing to bet $10 that the reality of their situation probably only hit the fidgety blonde this morning when the bus pulled up outside their school to take them to Denver.

The doors leading from the locker-room swung open as Chef returned from his previous errands and he approached the boys standing idly by the pool with a smile on his face.

"How's it going, children?"

Kenny looked glumly at the clipboard "Bad."

Chef seemed to be taken aback by the response "Why bad?"

"Tweek's got sand stuck in his vagina." Cartman jested from the side-lines.

The blonde twitched and started trembling uncontrollably, causing the water around him to ripple considerably "N-no, I don't…!"

"We think the pressure is starting to get to him, Chef." Kenny commented handing their coach the clipboard he had been holding "His times are getting worse instead of better."

The cafeteria worker studied the information Kenny had written down with thoughtful hazel eyes as he ran a pensive hand over his thickly bearded chin. Seemingly pinpointing the issue that none of the boys could recognize, Chef shook his head and looked down at the quivering teen with a lenient expression.

"Aw now, Tweek remember what we already discussed last practice. You have to become one with the water, not let it get the better of you." Chef reminded him before gesturing to the other boys "You see children; swimming is like making sweet, sweet love. Sometimes you'll come across a partner that is wild, impulsive and uncontrollable – but you shouldn't shy away from that kinda attitude in the bedroom, no sir. You gotta learn how to flow seamlessly with your partner. You gotta study how they react to your movements and experiment with your approaches until you figure out that sweet, sensual rhythm that binds the two of you into one single entity."

The boys all seemed to quietly exchange glances with one another, rather dumbfounded by the sultry analogy before Clyde decided to pipe up "Chef, as poetic as that speech was, I don't see how making sweet love and getting Tweek to swim faster are related topics."

"Weren't you children listening? What I mean is that Tweek just needs to relax and learn to manoeuvre with the water instead of against it!" Chef demarcated.

"Ohh…" the boys all chorused, still swapping rather confused looks with each other.

"Now everyone get your asses in the pool. We need to get you children working on agility drills if we want to help improve Tweek's speed!" Chef declared, moving to sit next to Cartman who tried to hide his chips out of sight the moment the elder male approached.

Kenny whooped loudly and whipped off his tracksuit jersey along with the whistle before cannonballing into the water, followed shortly by Clyde who front-flipped in after the energetic blonde. With Kevin and Tweek already bobbing about in the water, Stan watched his teammates as they began running the agility practice that Chef had introduced to them during his first few weeks as their new coach. Despite their obvious dicking about, both Clyde and Kenny were showing improvement as they had already swum several yards ahead of Tweek and Kevin who steadily began to pick up their paces. Stan decided then to dive in and elegantly swam to catch up with his lagging teammates just as Kenny and Clyde managed to kick off from the wall at the opposite end of the arena.

After a few successful laps between each member, the training session quickly devolved into playful horsing around as Clyde jumped up onto Kevin's back and submerged them both under the water's surface. Through the sound of splashing and hilarity, the sound of Cartman groaning from the side-lines caught Stan's immediate attention.

"Oh no, what is _that_ asshole doing here?"

Stan whipped himself around and caught a glimpse of the person that disgruntled the chubby teen. Much to Stan's surprise, the redhead from the hotel foyer walked in wearing a long pair of black compression pants with green accents and his opened tracksuit jersey over his bare, but fairly well-toned, torso. The boy's emerald eyes immediately settled on the five of them in the pool and for a split second, shock appeared to cover his expression as though he hadn't been expecting anyone else to be present. The rest of his teammates and their coach filed in behind him and the woman seemed to be as equally surprised by the team's existence.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realise that another team would be using the facility so early." The woman stated in a thick New-Jersey accent as she walked over to Chef in order to converse with him at an appropriate distance "This is usually our time slot for practice."

Chef held up his hands reassuringly as she approached "Oh, we were just about to finish with a quick relay run-through before we retire for the rest of the day, ma'am."

Seemingly deciding to let their coaches negotiate between their practice hours; South Park's team turned their collective attention back to Denver's team who appeared to be watching them just as carefully. Stan was also pretty sure he caught a brief glimpse of the taller athlete flipping them off but he wasn't certain enough to say if he had seen anything.

"W-well gee fellas, this is beginning to feel a little awkward now." The blonde from Denver mumbled, wringing his hands together as he glanced nervously between Stan and Kenny.

Apparently sensing an opportunity to open a conversation between the two teams, Kenny sidled over to the edge of the pool to gaze up at Denver's athletes with a crooked grin "Don't be shy boys, there's still plenty of water for us all to share. And who knows? Maybe we could eventually practice a few special drills together, eh Blondie?"

"O-oh uh, no thank you sir, I'm supposed to be practicing with my buddies here." The kid responded, looking down at Kenny with a slight pink tinge to his face.

"Butters, just ignore him. We'll start warming up while Mrs. Broflovski sees them out."

Apparently, the tallest Denver member _did_ have a voice as he brusquely ushered Butters and the male Stan assumed was called 'Token' to the other end of the pool to begin their warm-up stretches. Miraculously though, the redhead had stayed rooted to the spot while his teammates congregated at the other end of the arena and Stan swore the Denver student looked like he was actually considering the idea of a joint practice.

However, that possible contemplation was quickly doused the second Kenny decided to open his mouth.

"So, what about you then?" The mischievous blonde grinned at the redhead as he gestured to the water "I can't speak for our Stanley here, but I promise we don't bite – much."

Stan held back the urge to hold his friend's head underwater at that unnecessary comment. It did, however get a physical response from the male standing at the edge of the pool as his eyes seemed to drift from Kenny right to Stan, his cheeks flushed slightly from what Stan could only guess was disconcertment. The dark-haired athlete fought the impulse to let himself sink under the surface of the water and never re-emerge because he was pretty sure that the redhead was busy painting an inaccurate visual image of what he was like as a person in his head.

And that was all thanks to Kenny and his ability to take things incredibly out of context.

The redhead –cutely– scrunched his nose a little before looking back at Kenny and answering in a very light New-Jersey accent that nearly set Stan's veins alight "No thanks, I'll pass."

With that, the redhead spared one final glance to Stan before padding over to the other end of the pool, just as Token and Butters jumped in for a warm-up lap. Once the Denver team were well out of earshot, Stan turned to his friend, blushing fiercely and swiftly punched Kenny in the upper arm, causing the blonde to splutter in surprised distress.

Before Stan could further his chagrined assault on the blonde, Chef approached the edge of the pool the five boys had all drifted towards with Cartman in tow "Alright children, both Mrs. Broflovski and I have agreed that the Denver team has first dibs on the pool due to them being the home team. Their practice will conclude at 12:15 every morning up until the first events of the tournament are announced so we'll begin our own training at 12:30. That way the other teams can get their fair share of the facilities after us. I think this has been enough practice for one day. Go grab your gear, children; Eric and I will meet you outside. "

Later that night, Stan and Kenny had decided to retire to their shared room early after Chef treated them to a trip to Illegal Pete's Mexican restaurant in celebration of their first official day as State finalists. While Kenny showered, Stan had unpacked his gym bag and located his phone, deciding to go through his unread texts and missed calls as he waited. Ten minutes later, Stan didn't even notice Kenny returning until the blonde practically threw himself onto the other twin-sized bed to his right and let out an exaggerated moan of delight as he sunk into the comforter.

"Damn, this bed feels _so_ good."

Stan couldn't help but chuckle at his roommate and peered over at the blonde with a smirk plastered on his face "Please. Try to contain your orgasms, McCormick."

Kenny let out a laugh as he rolled onto his stomach to regard the other male with knowing eyes "Speak for yourself, Stan. I saw how you were looking at that redhead this morning. Got a thing for the tall boy in green, eh?"

"Kenny, Goddammit." Stan grumbled pinching the bridge of his nose "It's not like that."

" _Sure,_ Dude. …Not gonna lie though." Kenny started rolling onto his back to leisurely rest his hands behind his head "I wouldn't mind trying to wriggle my way into the kid with the Mohawk's aqua shorts."

"Dude, sick!" Stan laughed, throwing one of his pillows at his friend, successfully catching him in the side of the face "We're here to win, Kenny not 'score' with the other teams…!"

"Hey, all's fair in love and war, man." Kenny grinned wickedly from behind the pillow "Besides, could you _feel_ the hostility radiating from that taller guy? I seriously thought he was gonna jump in and physically throw our asses out of the pool. I just tried to defuse the situation with some light-hearted humour."

"I dunno, dude…" Stan replied, setting his phone down on the bedside cabinet "I personally felt like he was sizing us up, competition-wise. He seemed to look at Tweek a lot so maybe the guy's figured out that he's our weakest swimmer."

"I wouldn't go so far as to say he'sour _weakest_." Kenny said in the absent member's defense "He just tends to let his nerves get the better of him, that's all. Tweek could outswim all four of us if he really wanted to. He's just holding himself back."

"Yeah, I guess you're right, Ken." Stan replied, looking solemnly at his comforter.

"…So do you know his name yet?"

Stan looked across at the blonde as he lazily picked at the loose threads of his shirt "Who?"

"Y'know, the redhead with the nice ass?"

"Kenny, I wasn't staring at his ass."

The blonde chortled and merely waggled his eyebrows "I would never accuse you of such a thing, Mr. Morals."

"Shut up. And to answer your question, no I don't know his name yet." Stan replied before regarding the other with a grin "But I plan to find out tomorrow before practice."

Kenny smirked and flipped back onto his stomach, clutching Stan's pillow to his chest as he supported his head with his free hand "Damn, Marsh. Get his phone number for me too while you're at it."

Stan decided to play along and leered back at him "In your dreams, dude."

The two began to laugh heartily only to be cut off by the sound of Stan's mobile phone ringing. Looking down at the caller information, he could plainly see the name 'mom' displayed on the screen and the mirth he was previously experiencing withered and died in his throat. Stan sighed heavily, hauling himself up from the bed and making a grab for the phone.

"Hang on dude, I gotta take this."


	3. Chapter 3

_**2 missed calls from Mom.**_

Stan lent himself heavily against the pristine, white wall just outside his hotel room as he regarded the missed call information. He hadn't been fast enough to catch his mother's first call and on the second attempt, he had been unsure about answering. Would she have been mad that he hadn't answered her first call? Why was she even calling in the first place? Stan's phone buzzed in his hands again as his Mom's caller ID displayed on the screen for a third time in the space of five minutes. Okay, either she clearly needed something or somehow his father had gotten his mother to give him yet another chance and he was drunk dialling him from her phone.

It definitely wouldn't have been the first time _that_ had happened.

With a deep breath, Stan accepted the call and held the phone to his ear "Hey, Mom."

Thankfully, it was his mother who answered him "Hello Stanley. How is Denver?"

"Denver's fine; the guys and I ran a practice earlier today with Chef and we're just settling in at the hotel for the rest of the night." Stan answered before feeling anxiety beginning to toy with the content of his stomach "You're… Still gonna come to the finals, right Mom?"

"Of course, sweetheart; you know how excited I am for it! Tom's already promised to give me the day off from the Rhinoplasty to come down and see you win!" Sharon practically gleamed.

"…What about Dad?" Stan asked bitterly, trying to ignore how strained his voice sounded.

He heard his mother fumble for a reply before sighing wearily "I promise Stanley, I'll _try_ and talk to him but you know what he's like. Your father is one of the most stubborn men I've ever met and talking some sense into him usually ends up involving a three-step process to get _anything_ through that thick, drunken head of his."

"So you're back with him, then?" Stan deadpanned.

There was a very distinct pause "…Well, not exactly; we _are_ on speaking terms but your father has to cut back on the drink if he ever plans on getting back into this house. But even if he can't make it, Shelley has already agreed to come along to support you at the state finals!"

Stan hummed and toyed with the hem of his thread-worn T-shirt "She agreed reluctantly, I'll bet."

"Stan, sweetie; you know that your sister is very busy with college and the midterm exams always get her stressed out. She _is_ willing to make arrangements to come down from Boulder to cheer her baby brother on if she has a moment to herself in the next week!"

Stan rubbed his face tiredly as he lightly bit down on his tongue. Of course his mother would chide him for making a fairly snarky remark about his sister. After all, his mother's 'baby girl' was already in her second year of Media Studies and was planning to make something of her life, unlike her little brother who, quite clearly, didn't know what he wanted to do even though graduation was barely even a year away. Feeling self-contempt starting to prickle his skin, Stan immediately felt the intense desire to end this rather stale conversation and quickly burrow under the covers to drown out his repugnant thoughts until the morning.

"Listen mom, I gotta go." Stan hurriedly fibbed "Chef has signed us up for a morning practice at the Denver facility so I better get my eight hours in early if I wanna make it tomorrow."

"That's alright, I understand sweetheart. Have fun and remember to floss." Sharon replied, sounding unexpectedly loving "I love you, sweetheart."

Stan felt his mouth twist slightly with sheer apathy "Yeah, you too."

When he returned to their shared hotel room, Stan glanced over to Kenny's bed expecting his friend to have something to say about the clearly downcast expression on his face. Thankfully, he had come back to find that the blonde athlete was messily sprawled out in his wooden divan and snoring loudly as his mouth remained unhinged in heavy slumber.

Thank Jesus he was out cold.

With a hefty sigh, Stan began to shamble around their room, getting himself ready for bed. However, once he had perched himself onto his luxurious divan, dressed in loose grey sweats and a dark blue Terrance & Phillip shirt, Stan paused; sending a distracted look back to his gym bag which had been discarded on one of the cushy chairs situated by the door.

He didn't need it; he was just feeling the rebound of the repressed emotions he had bottled up during his phone call with his mother. He was fine; all he had to do was slip himself under the covers, switch off the bedside light, close his eyes and try to shut off his mind. He was fine; he didn't need it. If he wasn't immediately sleepy, he could try to distract himself with a few of the newly downloaded game applications on his phone or take a quick walk around the block to try and tire his body out. He was _fine_ ; he didn't _need_ it.

… _No, I definitely need it._

Warily glancing back to Kenny, making sure he was still sound asleep, Stan got up and quietly ambled over to his bag, carefully lifting it from the chair and moving to plop it down onto his bed. Settling next to it, he spared another peek at his friend. The zipper on the light piece of luggage slowly gave way without much noise and allowed his trembling hands to slip in to locate the hidden pocket normally used for storing goggles and a swim cap.

But for the past seven years, Stan had been using that pocket for something other than his smaller swimming equipment.

Procuring the item he was looking for, the troubled athlete gave another glimpse over his shoulder before gingerly pulling a hip flask out from the contents of his bag. Unscrewing the lid and quickly taking a large swig of alcohol, Stan momentarily allowed himself to space out.

He had told the School counsellor that he had stopped drinking, but he knew he had only said that to get Mr. Mackey off his back and to avoid attending any more sessions with the airheaded guidance counsellor. He had already gone through enough counselling to know the apparent source of his problems; it had presumably started when he was eight years old and his parents divorced for the first time. His mother, Sharon had wasted no time in letting him know that the situation had been his fault and that his happiness came second to her own while his father seemed more interested in leading the single life than trying to make amends for the family's sake.

They did eventually get back together but no matter how often his parents had told him that he mattered to them, Stan couldn't bring himself to forget his mother's earthshattering words.

At the age of ten, his parents had gone through numerous fights and at least three divorces causing Stan to turn to alcoholism in order to cope with the constant family drama his parents devoted themselves to every few months. It was easy to get hold of the alcohol; after all, most of the fights his parents had focused on his father's own boozy tendencies meaning that alcoholic drinks were abundant in their home and his father was often too shitfaced to notice anything had gone missing.

For the next seven years, life for Stan had just felt constantly shitty. Every morning, he would wake up on the verge of a hangover, wondering whether his parents were going to continue the vicious cycle of 'break-up and make-up' or if he would go downstairs to find yet another man trying to take his father's place in the family. None of them seemed to last long however as his mother would constantly gave in, taking his father back and seemingly gave him chance after chance to change his disorderly ways despite knowing that he likely never would.

Even Stan knew that his father's drunk-induced antics would only get worse as the years progressed; changing a habit that had lasted nearly 30 years was no easy task.

Shelly probably had the right idea; the moment she was old enough, Shelly had decided to move to a different city altogether and started attending college to try and give her a stable job to avoid returning to South Park. At times, Stan felt that maybe he was being too hard on his childhood tormentor. In the end, he could have reasoned that their parents' constant power struggle had probably done a considerable amount of damage to his elder sister too; she likely just used violence as her way to channel her own frustrations on the matter.

Or at least that's probably what his counsellor would have said if Stan had told him about her.

By the time Stan managed to return from the dark recesses of his mind, it was well past two in the morning and his flask of cheap whiskey had been drained completely dry. He hadn't meant to zone out for that long but he couldn't bring himself to really care either. Slipping his flask back into the small pocket of his bag, Stan set the luggage down at the side of his bed before sluggishly sliding under the covers of the hotel's divan. His vision felt hazy as he reached out to switch off the bedside light. Whether it was caused by the alcohol buzzing in his system or the sleep that finally caught up with him, Stan just _didn't_ care.

He had only drunk enough to take the edge off anyway…

"Rise and shine, Asshole!"

The sudden giddy shout that breeched his intoxicated slumber caused Stan's head to pound like a loud bass drum. Blinking himself wearily awake, he was greeted by the sight of a blurry-looking Kenny leaning a mere two inches above him with a huge smile displaying his slightly kinked teeth.

Glaring down to his phone lying abandoned on the edge of the mattress currently still on charge from the night before, Stan groaned noisily before lifting the pillow from under his head in order to smother himself with it "…Kenny, it's only _7am_."

"Dude, don't you realise our situation? We're in Denver, staying in a posh-ass hotel with a _full_ continental breakfast just begging to be devoured downstairs!" Kenny informed him, clearly thrilled by the prospect of a meal that didn't solely consist of Strawberry flavoured Pop-Tarts.

"Then get ready and go downstairs yourself!" Stan ground out, muffled by his pillow "I'm exhausted!"

"Staaaan…!" Kenny whined as he threw himself on top of his friend, jostling around the bed to purposely rouse him from the light sleep the dark-haired athlete tried to succumb to "We gotta get down there before Cartman puts the whole place outta business!"

"Dude, alright fine…!" Stan groused, throwing his pillow off his head, allowing it to land somewhere in the hotel room "Just let me get ready first, I can't go dressed like this."

Kenny fist-pumped the air and shot off Stan's bed in a flash to get himself ready "Woohoo!"

After a hasty shower and messily dressing himself in a worn out pair of jeans and a dark t-shirt, Stan had accompanied Kenny to the Restaurant on the bottom floor. Upon entering, the duo were immediately greeted by the sound of Clyde and Cartman yelling at each other as they stood at the buffet table squabbling over the available food neatly spread out over the white linen. Tweek and Kevin had already taken what they wanted from the buffet while Kenny charged his way between the bickering pair and damn well packed his breakfast plate full of every food there was to offer.

Much to Stan's surprise, the blonde had managed to devour every single bite without vomiting.

Luckily none of his teammates had bothered to question his sluggishness and Kenny hadn't caught the remaining scent of scotch on his breath before he had the chance to brush his teeth. Chef did happen to note that Stan seemed a little out of sorts that morning, but he told his coach this it was just the drowsiness from the bus journey catching up on him. He was relieved when Chef chose not to pursue the topic further and instead had urged the boys to enjoy the rest of their morning exploring the city with a reminder to be back at the hotel for until 12:00 when they were expected to start heading out to the swimming facility.

Upon entering the swimming academy at 12:20pm, it appeared that Denver's team had just wrapped up their training session as the pool was empty and their coach, Mrs. Broflovski was busying herself by pacing relentlessly in the foyer, muttering quietly to herself about the boys taking too long to get redressed. Cartman snickered and nudged Kenny in the ribs with his blubbery elbow.

"Uh-ooooh - Look out guys; we got ourselves a Jersey Devil at twelve-o'clock." Cartman cheekily goaded.

"Eric, cut that out." Chef reprimanded the chubby teenager quietly before turning his attention to the woman who lifted her hazel eyes to regard them impatiently "Hello, Mrs. Broflovski."

"Oh." The woman responded somewhat curtly "You're that other coach from yesterday, correct?"

Thankfully, Chef didn't seem to take her tone to heart "That's right. How are your boys coming along with their practice? Working hard, I hope!"

"They're doing fantastic Mr. Chef, even if they _have_ been a bit distracted lately." Mrs. Broflovski replied, placing her hands on her rather wide hips "In fact while we're on the subject, my boys told me yesterday that yours offered to have a joint swimming practice with them at some point."

"Is that so?" Chef immediately stared at Kenny who simply shrugged wordlessly in response "Well, it _might_ be beneficial for both of our boys, Mrs. Broflovski. I mean think about it; they would be competing alongside someone they aren't familiar with to compare their abilities against and maybe they could even help each other strive to reach their highest potential before the contest next week!"

"Mr. Chef; as much as I appreciate the offer, I think I should decline. I don't know about your boys but mine are coming along swimmingly with their records. Our Token just smashed his 'Breaststroke' record by a whole 1.25 seconds this morning and now he's finishing sprints in just under two minutes!"

Normally, the boys would have collectively bust a gut at the slang term for mammary glands being mentioned but the South Park swimmers all remained silent and glanced between one another nervously. Was managing to complete a sprint in less than two minutes even feasibly possible? Clyde, who also happened to swim the breaststroke, looked a little bit intimidated by the mere suggestion while Cartman's face twisted into deep thought, clearly mulling over this new information.

"Well, if you think that would be best for your boys, Mrs. Broflovski." Chef replied, clearly trying to avoid a confrontation with the stout woman standing across from him. He then turned his attention back to his swimmers and gave them a quick nod of the head "Alright children, go and get ready, we'll begin practice as soon as the Denver team leaves."

Leaving the two adults to try and make small talk with one another, the South Park team turned and began to head down the hallway to the locker room, a disheartened atmosphere hanging in the air.

"Dude… Under two minutes?" Stan thought aloud, his facial expression noticeably grim.

"We're lucky if Clyde can even break three on a good day." Kevin commented, also sounding put-off.

Clyde himself sounded like he was five seconds away from breaking down into tears "You guys don't really doubt me, right? I could totally beat that record! I just need to swim more solo sprints! Watch me; I'll break my own record and his by the end of this training session! You guys believe me, right?"

"You guys, you guys." Cartman gained the group's attention and he crossed his thick arms behind his head "It's fine; that Token guy from Denver will get _exactly_ what's coming to him soon enough!"

"Cartman, _no_." Stan scolded, moving to stand in front of the flabby male and causing him to halt his advances "Whatever it is that you're thinking about doing, you are _not_ gonna do it."

Cartman chortled uneasily as he looked between Clyde and Tweek who were walking at either side of him when he got stopped by the shorter male "I have no idea what he's talking about, you guys."

Stan scowled "When that Broflovski woman mentioned that other guy's new record, I knew you'd come up with some kind of plan to try and knock off our competition like you did last year at Fairplay. You've got that evil look in your eyes and you are _not_ screwing us over this year, do you hear me?"

"Kinney, I believe _you're_ the team captain here, right?" Cartman crooned, looking at the other male hiding under his large hood with wide brown eyes, clearly trying to prey upon the blonde's ego " _You_ know that I'm only looking out for the best interests of our team here, don't you?"

"Sorry Dude, but after watching you slip extra-strength laxatives into the water bottles of each member from Longmond's team last summer, I gotta agree with Stan on this one. Your plans always suck; they always get us nearly disqualified for one reason or another and we really don't need to be relying on your dirty tactics to win." Kenny quietly responded behind the hood's fabric.

"What?! Fuck you, Kinney! Why do you always have to side with your little butt buddy Stan, huh?" Cartman spat, flipping a stubby bird at them "At least the other guys appreciate all the hard work I put in to making you guys the best team in the contests, right guys?"

The other three males in question all exchanges glanced with one another before silently walking on ahead towards the locker rooms; clearly choosing to stay out of the squabble the trio had gotten themselves into about Cartman's cheating habits. Figuring that their teammates had the right idea, Stan and Kenny wordlessly agreed to pick up their gym bags and follow after them, leaving a very irate Eric Cartman behind as they made their way collectively down the hall.

"Well, screw you guys!" Cartman bellowed at them as they continued walking "I'm going home!"


End file.
